


Vanished

by BecauseFandomsAreBetter, fandomlyfreak



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Johnlock - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 14:10:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecauseFandomsAreBetter/pseuds/BecauseFandomsAreBetter, https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomlyfreak/pseuds/fandomlyfreak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John are investigating a case when they find themselves locked in a cabinet. Even stranger, when they open the cabinet, they find themselves in Hogsmeade, meeting the mysterious Evangeline Hunt, and facing a whole lot of trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vanished

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is a crossover story written by me and my friend FandomlyFreak. We're still new to the whole AO3 thing, so sorry if the formatting is a bit off, we're still trying to figure it out. Thank you! Hope you enjoy. :)

John was, quite frankly, getting sick of Sherlock’s antics. He was used to traipsing after Sherlock all day, but this was getting ridiculous. They’d been working on this case for over three days now, and Sherlock had gotten a lead just that morning. Which was all fine and dandy, except that he’d gotten the lead at 5 bloody am. And then he’d demanded that John hurry up and get ready, because "the game was on".   
  
“I hate this game.” muttered John, peevishly, as he none-the-less grabbed his coat and stomped out to join Sherlock. “Doesn’t your homeless network ever sleep?” “No.” was Sherlock’s short reply. He was already immersed in the case, eyes glazed over, no doubt deducing things in his mind palace. John sighed, and munched on the muffin he’d snatched on the way out, preparing himself for a day of Sherlock’s mind.  
 **  
5 ½ hours later**

“I am going to kill you.” “Er..sorry.” “No. I am going to kill you.”   
  
“You know, most women, and men for that matter, would enjoy being locked in a cabinet with-” “Finish that sentence. I dare you.” “Erm. I’ll shut up now.” “You do that.”   
  
John was mad. He’d been tracking criminals, chasing said criminals, and then had been chased by same criminals. Now he was locked in a cabinet, squashed uncomfortably close against his psychopath-excuse me, _sociopath_ \- flatmate, while a serial killer paced outside not twenty feet from them.  
“John. Do you mind shifting a bit, your elbow is in my-” “Shut. Up.” “Okay.”

  
Sherlock was being uncharacteristically agreeable just then, probably because he was too squashed to do anything but agree. Or atleast, thats what John probably thought. Sherlock tried to pretend the reason he was short of breath was because John’s elbow  
was jamming into his stomach. (Which was, albeit, rather painful.) Not because John’s back was pressed up against his chest, and he was almost cradling him in his lap. Certainly not because he was nose-level with John’s hair, which smelled deliciously of the  
cinnamon and apple shampoo Harry gave him every christmas…. “Sherlock!” John whispered frantically in his ear. From his frustrated tone, Sherlock could tell he’d probably been trying to get his attention for a while now. “What? Sorry. I was-” he cleared his  
throat, hoping John couldn’t see his cheeks flush. “Yes, whatever. Listen- it’s gone all quiet outside. I think we can leave.” “Right. Open the doors then.” Sherlock jumped instantly back into detective mode, shaking his head clear of any distracting thoughts.  
John took a breath, and pushed the door lightly. It flew open quicker than they had anticipated, and the pair tumbled out. Blinking in the harsh fluorescent lights, _(Thats odd, could’ve sworn we were in a dark room)_ , Sherlock pulled himself up to a kneeling  
position, turning to help John.  
  
And froze as the girl entering the bathroom they were in stopped short with a shriek.

_Bathroom?_

 

* * *

 

  
“...AND IF YOU EVER, EVER DISGRACE THIS FAMILY AGAIN, I WILL PERSONALLY SEE TO IT THAT YOU WILL BE TAKEN OUT OF THIS SCHOOL!” The envelope dropped from her hand, bursting into flames. Gathering the remains of the Howler from the table, she walked out of the Great Hall, and down towards the Hufflepuff Common Room.

 

“Hey Angie! Nice Howler!”

 

“So sorry about your ‘Exceeding Expectations’ on your Transfigurations essay!”

 

“What a horrible grade!”

  
She passed through, ignoring the mockings, headed straight down into her dormitory. Scattering the ashen remains of the Howler onto her desk, she began to pace across her room. This was the third time her mother had embarrassed her in such a way. Most people got at most one, for doing something absolutely horrid. She heard that some boy even drove a flying car into the school. But when she didn’t get the absolute best possible grade, her mother would send the same Howler.

Evangeline was frustrated. Frustrated at her mom, mostly. She needed to clear her head. She needed some fresh air, a walk. Hogsmeade! Honeydukes! Evangeline could picture the wonderfully sweet sugar quills awaiting her. She grabbed her scarf, and headed out.

Walking around Hogsmeade really did help settle things. She knew her mom was completely paranoid, and she also knew that she did try her best on the essay. A single inhale of the fresh, April breeze helped to calm her down completely. Evangeline peered into Honeydukes. She caught smell of the sugary sweets surrounding the shop, and couldn’t resist buying just one piece of candy. Would it be the sugar quills? Or the Every Flavour Beans? Then again, those Fizzing Whizzbees looked delectable as well. Nougat! Toffees! How could she possibly choose?

After a considerable amount of debating with herself, she decided that she would just buy one of each. With her pockets full, Evangeline visited Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. Although she wasn’t particularly fond of practical jokes, she did enjoy her small chats with Mr. Weasley.

Evangeline visited The Three Broomsticks last, for a nice, fulfilling cup of Butterbeer. She decided to visit the bathroom before she returned, just to make sure she didn’t have a sour expression. Her mother’s howlers tended to have that effect on her. As she opened the door, something on the floor caught her eye and she looked down. When she glanced back up, she stopped short. And shrieked.

_What the hell?_


End file.
